Elven Avenger
by Brooke ORiley
Summary: Legolas finds himself in Pre-Revolutionary America...and don't worry, he doesn't get the girl! My first fanfic...Please R


_*Hello, all! I wrote this as a school assignment; I had to take a fantasy book and a historical fiction one, and stick a character from the fantasy into the historical fiction. So I own absolutely none of these characters! Legolas is obviously Tolkien's, and Evelyn and everyone else belong to Sally Laity and Dianna Crawford, from their book, "The Torches Of Triumph" Good book, you should read it._

_Anyway, this is my first fan fiction, so be gentle. I can take constructive criticism, but don't bother telling me my characters aren't in character, because I already know. They'd only be in character if Tolkien wrote this, and obviously he didn't. And since I'm not sure what I'm still rambling about, go read!_

_Oh! The reason the beginning of the story is in italics is because I didn't write that part; it was from the book. The normal writing is where my writing started. Ok, so read and review! Thanks!*_

_Evelyn, her hands and feet tied, narrowed her eyes and glared bitterly down from her sidesaddle at her two captors.  How dare they wash themselves, when she'd had precious little opportunity to do so herself these past six days? She longed to quench her thirst and wash her filthy, mosquito-bitten face in the cool flow of the stream beside the trace they'd been following.  While she stank of grime and horse, those savages preened and adorned themselves and slicked down their greasy hair._

_No doubt if Susannah were here now, she'd be mouthing platitudes about how one must love one's enemies.  But Susannah hadn't had the butt of a hatchet slammed down on her leg.  Even after all these days a lump the size of a goose egg distorted Evie's thigh.  For the first two days, pain from the blow had been excruciating as the prodding steps of the horse jolted it.  Now there was a dull, constant ache._

_          Evelyn pursed her lips.  Yes, Susannah would probably be elaborating on the goodness of God because Evie was now riding one of the pacers rather than her Thoroughbred hunter.  The Narragansetts were bred for their gentle gait and ease of mounting.  With a leg that even now scarcely supported her, Evie knew she'd never have been able to hoist herself up to Amber Jewel's back.  She'd barely managed the much shorter pacer.  And it went without saying that neither of these two would have helped her.  They'd sooner allow a wolf to bite off their hands than stoop to offer her a leg up.  And they hadn't liked having her looking down on them from the hunter's height, either._

_          Her thoughts turned to her finely bred gelding.  She hoped the Indian who'd claimed the horse would treat it with the kindness befitting its nature._

_          The braves suddenly leaped onto their mounts._

_          Evie's fears returned as the two started moving.  As her strawberry roan was pulled after them, Evelyn's bruised leg began to itch.  Undoubtedly that was a sign that healing was beginning, but along with all the other aggravating itches caused by mosquito bites all over her face and arms, she was helpless to scratch it.  Her wrists, chafed by the tightness of the rough hemp binding them, smarted in protest._

_          The Indians rode ahead of her, the two strings of horses crowding each other as they followed a narrow path through the woods. What lay at the other end?_

_          Evie glowered at the pair of bronzed backs in front of her.  Love thine enemy, ha!  Not even Susannah Haynes could be that generous in these circumstances._

_          But then, Evelyn gloated silently, her abductors hadn't come away entirely unscathed themselves.  Because neither of them had a saddle, they had taken a number of hard spills from these horses that were little more than green broke.  One brave had a purplish bruise on his thigh just below his breechcloth that all but rivaled her own.  New scratches grazed their legs with every day of riding through the forests._

_          Served the heathens right, she decided, for running around practically naked.  Then she took note of her own pale green skirt, tattered from rips and jags, shredded in places.  If it caught on brambles too many more times, she could easily find herself as exposed as the  men._

_          The braves talked back and forth, and one of them burst out with a laugh._  Evelyn wondered how they could act so casual.  Did they go out and kidnap girls and horses every day?  Or just on special occasions?  She sighed, wishing that Chris would come and rescue her.  How she longed to see him again, to hear his voice, to gaze once more into his warm blue eyes.

          Glancing ahead at the braves, Evie saw one of them fall from his mount.  Her smile froze when she noticed the arrow protruding from his side.  The other brave stiffened and looked around, searching for the offender.  Suddenly he, too, fell off his horse with an arrow in his back.    Evie gazed wildly around, wondering what would come of this.  Had someone finally come to her rescue? Or was this another tribe of Indians, older and fiercer than the two lying dead on the ground?

          Evie felt a hand on her shoulder.  She whirled her head in panic, coming face to face with a young man.  Taking in the bow and arrow strapped to his back as well as the knife in his hand, she nevertheless felt as though he meant her no harm.

          "Are you all right?" he asked. The sound of his voice gave her a small measure of comfort as he gently cut her bonds.  When she was free, she flung herself into his arms, feeling only slightly guilty that she was in the embrace of a man other than her darling Chris.

          Her rescuer wrapped his arms around her, holding her securely as she cried her heart out.  Shaking violently, she held onto him as if for dear life.  He gently stroked her head as he sang softly to her in an unfamiliar tongue.  Slowly letting go of everything that had befallen her, Evie sank into the realm of blessed, untroubled sleep.

* * * * *

            Legolas gazed at the young woman in his arms.  She could not be more than eighteen years old, yet she had obviously suffered much.  Noticing with surprise that the girl had fallen asleep in his embrace, he lowered her gently to the ground.  Glancing back to make sure she was undisturbed, he walked toward the two Indian braves.  He didn't want the girl to see their dead bodies.  He had heard since arriving in this strange land that Indians forced their captives to witness the slaughter of their families.  Aware that the maid probably approved of the deaths of her captors, he was still reluctant to have her see firsthand the effects of his arrows in their lifeless forms.  Dragging the corpses into a thicket, he buried them in the underbrush.

          Hearing the maiden stir, he hurried back to her side.  Seeing him, she gave a small smile, as if remembering the past events and seeing with relief that her rescue had not been only a dream.  Legolas offered her an encouraging smile as she stretched and got up.

* * * * *

          "Thank you so much for saving me from those horrid Indians," Evie said gratefully.  "But, who are you?"

          Her rescuer smiled, emphasizing the ethereal beauty of his face.  Evelyn thought he must be the most handsome man she had ever known.

          "My name is Legolas," he said.  _Even his voice is lovely,_ she thought with surprise.  "And you are?"

          "Evelyn Thomas," she replied.  "I'm ever so grateful for your assistance…Legolas.  How did you ever find me out here?"

          "I had been wandering the forest, when I heard your horses coming.  I saw your distress, and came to your aid.  Where do you live? Your family must be worried about you."

          At the mention of her family, Evie's fears returned. "Oh, yes, they must be sick with worry. I've got to get home, to Susannah and Mary Clare and their babies. And Chris." Loneliness swept over her.

          Legolas apparently noticed, for his countenance softened. 

          She hurried on. "Chris is my…Well, he's promised himself to me when he comes back from war. I miss him so." She sighed. 

          "Well, then, we must get you home, quick as can be."  Legolas assessed the darkening sky.  "You should get what sleep you can, and we'll start in the morning.  Is that all right?"  With a small smile, Evie nodded.

          She settled herself next to a tree, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

          Evelyn woke to discover Legolas standing over her.  As she swept her tired gaze over him, she noticed that he appeared quite rested.  Realizing how disheveled she must look, she grimaced.  

          "Good morning," she said sleepily.  She walked to the stream and splashed cold water on her face.  She longed for a real bath, but glanced back at Legolas and decided against it.

          He noticed her discomfort.  "I'll leave you alone for a little," he said.  Taking off his cloak, he hung it from a nearby branch.  "You should put this on when you're done.  Whistle when you want me."  Smiling warmly, he walked away.

          Evie smiled at his thoughtfulness.  She stepped gingerly into the stream, trying not to shiver at the cool water.  She washed thoroughly, thankful for the opportunity to get rid of the layers of dust she'd acquired during the past seven days.  She stepped out of the water, longing for one of the plush towels she was accustomed to in Philadelphia.  Wrapping herself in Legolas' cloak, she gave a whistle.  As she waited for her companion to return, Evelyn assessed the warm cloak she wore.  At first it had appeared gray, but now it looked green.  She admired the well-crafted brooch that clasped at the throat.  Shaped like a delicate leaf, it made her feel as though she was dressed as finely as a queen.

          Evie was startled to feel Legolas' hand on her shoulder.  She hadn't heard him approach.  She turned and smiled.  "Are you ready?"

          "After you."

          Legolas lifted Evie onto her horse, then leaped astride another.  She marveled at the ease with which he controlled the beast and pulled the others along after him.  The horses seemed to want to follow him as he sang to them in a foreign yet beautiful tongue.  Evie couldn't really blame them.  She felt herself strangely drawn to the handsome man, though thoughts of Chris constantly flitted into her brain, teasing her.  She couldn't wait until she could finally see him again.

* * * * *

          Legolas let his gaze wander over Evelyn's form as she rode her horse in front of him.  He had to admit that she was attractive.  Despite her bruises and scratches, there was no denying the beauty in her face and how he was drawn to her lovely pale blue eyes.  But she had given her heart to another man already.  And she was just a child.  

          Legolas hadn't seen any point in confusing the girl by telling her he was an Elf from Middle-Earth.  He had no idea how or why he'd suddenly appeared in this strange land.  However, he did not consider this little trip, or whatever it might be, to be purely a waste of time.  Having saved this poor lass from danger was quite enough for him.  Now all he needed to do was return her safely home, to her loving family and her beloved Chris.

          His thoughts turned back to his own home in the forest of Mirkwood.  This land was lovely in its fashion, but he couldn't suppress the longing within him to return to Middle-Earth.  And although he was still in love with his homeland, he had to fight off his longings for the Sea.  One day, he hoped to cross the Sea and join his kinsfolk.  But for now, he was content in this land, watching out for the poor waif riding ahead of him, eager for her home.

* * * * *

          Evie, tired after a long day riding, was still eager to press on.  She wanted to get home as quickly as possible.  But as she continued on,  she could not keep herself from falling asleep.  At last, she was jolted awake as she started to slide off her horse.  

          Before she knew what was happening, Legolas was beside her, catching her as she fell, pulling her onto his horse.  Confident that he could find the way home, she closed her eyes and nodded off.

* * * * *

          After four days of constant riding, Legolas was sure that Evelyn was more eager than ever to get home.  Aware that the lass was reluctant to pause even at night, he had taken to letting her sleep in front of him on his horse while he rode on and made sure that she did not fall off.

          Glancing down at her as she slept once more in the shelter of his arms, he urged his horse to a greater speed.  But even as he hurried forward, he heard five horses approaching from the right. He slowed down, reaching for his bow with one hand while steadying Evie, who had started to slip, with the other.

          The girl looked up as the riders approached, then, obviously afraid of more Indians, she shuddered and leaned against Legolas as she peered through the bushes.  Not about to let any harm befall her, Legolas bent his bow and fitted an arrow to the string.

          The riders entered the clearing.

* * * * *

          Evie watched as the riders came into view.  Suddenly she let out a gasp.  Chris! And Morgan! They had finally come for her!  She jumped down from the horse and ran towards them, arms outstretched.

          "Chris!"

          "Evie!"  She ran into his arms and cried, overjoyed that she had finally reached him.  

          "Oh, Chris.  You came for me. _Chris."_  She cried harder, holding onto him as tight as she could.

          "And what about me?"           

          She whirled around.  "Morgan!"  She hugged her brother, overwhelmed with joy.  She looked around and saw Dan Haynes, Jon Bradford, and another man she didn't recognize.  

          Laughing and crying, she grabbed Chris's hand, then ran to tug Legolas down from his perch atop the pacer.  Scarcely aware of the introductions going on around her, she turned once more into Chris's embrace.

          She was finally home.

*_Sappy ending, I know. Oh, well. You'll live._

_Heh, when I first heard about this assignment, I figured the possibilities were endless! Pippin during the Irish potato famine, the balrog at the Boston tea party….such fun! But I did this instead. Hope ya liked it!_

_If you want a sample of my real writing, with my own characters, check me out at fictionpress, under the same penname. _

_Now go review!*_


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